


fixin' to ride

by holdenscoffee (spacebarista)



Category: The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: F/M, Smut, Table Sex, Use of Vibrations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:12:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebarista/pseuds/holdenscoffee
Summary: “The Roci's machine shop has gear at counter level you can sit on that hums along at up to 7000rpm.”Alex and Sandra take full advantage while the crew is away.Written for The Expanse Valentine's Day Fanwork Exchange on tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teen_satan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teen_satan/gifts).



> So I got prompted “The Roci's machine shop has gear at counter level you can sit on that hums along at up to 7000rpm.” I decided to try my hand at Alex/Sandra Ip in this one.
> 
>  
> 
> Written for The Expanse Valentine's Day Fanwork Exchange on tumblr.

Alex is a pushover. He knows it. Sandra knows it. She’s pulling him along behind her to Engineering, going on about having an idea that he would _love_. Any idea that has to do with engineering just makes him nervous. But she wants him to follow, so he does. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious.

  


Amos keeps the machine shop in a state of constant organization. It had surprised Alex at first how immaculate Amos makes his spaces. Not that he ever considered their head engineer a slob. Sandra yanks him into Amos’s home base and hits the door controls to make it slide shut behind them. Grinning, Alex pulls her close, nuzzles at the side of her head.

  


“You know, darlin’,” he rumbles, thumbs drawing small circles over her hips. “If privacy is what you're wantin’, there are safer places that Amos _won’t_ wander into.”

  


Sandra pouts. “But nowhere near as fun. Besides...” She pulls out of his grip, boots clicking on the deck as she meanders backwards. Her eyes remain on his. Her hand moves to unzip her jumpsuit. Slowly. “ _This_ is where the surprise is. Sa sa ke what this room has that your cabin doesn’t?”

  


Alex manages to look around, an eyebrow raised. “Uh… risk of infection?”

  


Her resulting laugh is musical, and draws a genuine smile out of him. “No, cowboy, not that.” Her hips hit the counter, arms reaching back to brace herself. The gap in her jumpsuit widens. She doesn’t have a shirt on underneath it. Alex has no trouble keeping his eyes trained on her face. Her grin widens. She waves at the tools laid out on the counter. “It has _these_.”

  


Alex blinks. “Uh huh…” Sandra’s eyebrows jump up. Like he’s supposed to pick up on whatever ideas she has on implication alone. Alex is still stuck on infection. He tries to let the sight of her leaning on the counter overtake it. “... And?”

  


Sandra rolls her eyes. “Figured I’d have to spell it out for you.” She reaches one long arm out to grasp the closest one: some sort of wrench, if Alex remembers correctly. She slides the heavy object closer, eyes still on his face, lip caught between her teeth. Sandra turns it on, and the whole table hums in chorus with the vibrations. _Oh._ ** _Oh_**. The realization must show on his face. Her grin widens to something sensual and wicked. “Now he gets it.”

  


Alex runs several sentences (“Holy flying fuck, Sandra.”, “That seems dangerous, Sandra.”, “Why are you still dressed, Sandra???”) through his mind before finally settling on: “Amos might kill us, Sandra.”

  


“Oh for _fuck’s_ sake, Alex,” she huffs, taking her hand off the vibrating wrench and reaching for him. She takes the lapels of his jumpsuit in her strong grip. “Just shut up and kiss me, Martian.” She pulls him back with her, lets his hips crash against hers when she hits the counter again.

  


He laughs, a soft puff of air and sound. “When you put it that way… yes, ma’am.”

  


When he leans in to press his lips to hers, she meets him halfway. She almost nips his lip in her excitement. He’d like to go slow, to linger and be sensual. But Sandra kisses him with such ferocity that he can’t deepen it to his liking. So he lets himself get swept up in her need, working with her to further unzip her jumpsuit without breaking apart once. He can just feel the vibrations from the wrench spreading across the table all the way through her hips.

  


Alex’s jumpsuit starts to feel a little tighter.

  


Once Sandra’s shrugged the top half of her jumpsuit off, Alex takes her by the waist and hoists her up onto the counter. She squeals her delight, a young sound that makes his heart skip a beat. She catches the wrench before it rolls itself off the counter. The vibrations get stronger and she pulls it back closer to them. For a second, Alex worries she plans to _sit_ on it. But Sandra simply holds it down against the counter and her thigh. He breathes a sigh of relief that the risk of injury is slightly lower. Alex presses closer to her and she catches his hips with her thighs.

  


“You ever get off like this?” She asks him, voice breathy as she closes her eyes and tips her head back. Her hips rock on the solid surface. “Sat on something with a vibration so strong you could ride it till you came?”

  


Alex latches onto her bared neck, kissing her just under her jaw. “Can’t say I have.” He teases his fingers along her pantyline. It’s a helpful distraction from the vibrations where his own hips meet the counter.

  


Sandra hums and threads her free hand into his hair. “Help me along? It’s more fun with _two_ …”

  


Alex shudders. “Gonna need a little more time, sugar. Let’s take care of _you_ first.”

  


Before she can argue—as if—he slips his hand into her panties and drags his fingers along her. She gasps, rocks into his touch, leaning harder on the wrench and changing the intensity. He strokes her with two fingers, listens to her whimper in his ear. Her grip on his hair tightens. She whispers his name.

  


It’s all the encouragement Alex needs. He slips his fingers between her lips to feel her slick wetness. She moans, scratches his scalp. The vibrations are as strong through her as they are through the table. He wonders what it would feel like to be inside her like this. He avoids touching her clit and eases a finger inside of her. Sandra arches with a soft cry, turning her head press her cheek against his. Alex withdraws from her neck and kisses her, free hand moving to cup the back of her head.

  


The rest of the crew may be on station, but better safe than sorry.

  


Sandra breaks the kiss to breathe, rests her forehead against his as she pants. Her breath ghosts against his lips and each one is accompanied by a soft whine or his name. She rocks her hips to meet his hand. He works a second finger into her. She flutters around him and he presses his hips harder against the table with a groan. _Damn. Should have taken her up on her offer._

  


Each breath and whine comes out higher pitched, her movements become more stuttered. She’s so close. A selfish part of Alex thanks the powers that be. He can’t take much more waiting. He glances at her face. Her brow is furrowed, cheeks flushed, mouth hanging open, and hair starting to stick to her sweaty skin. She’s gorgeous. And he can’t make her wait.

  


“C’mon, darlin’,” he mutters, catching her lips in a kiss. He presses the pad of his thumb to her clit, rubs in small circles. “I got you.”

  


It’s all Sandra needs. She comes with a sharp cry, her body tensing as it courses through her. She must shift her weight on the drill; it shuts off and crashes to the floor, leaving him bereft of the admittedly pleasurable vibration. He’s partially grateful for the break. Alex slowly rocks his fingers in and out of her, working her through it.She comes down with a breathy laugh and a smile on her face.

  


“Mmm,” Sandra hums, blinking her eyes open to gaze at him. “That was good.”

  


“Was it?” Alex eases his fingers out of her—to another soft hum—and wipes his hand on his jumpsuit. He expects he’ll be doing some laundry anyway. He can hear a tightness in his own voice. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  


“Or…” A wicked glint surfaces in her lidded eyes. She leans forward to kiss him. His chest warms when he sees how much effort it takes her. “You could pick that drill up, strip down a bit more, and see what it feels like for yourself.” She nips his bottom lip. “I’m nowhere near done with you, Kamal.”

  


Alex is a pushover. He knows it. Sandra knows it. He doesn’t mind.

  


Though, he _will_ have to figure out what to say to Amos. If he ever finds out.


End file.
